Attraction, Part Deux

Remember when I said that I wasn’t going to try to analyze attraction? Yeah, I kinda did. And it’s still a mystery.

For example, when dissecting the frankly meaningless celebrity crushes I had throughout the years, I still can’t assign myself a “type”. I also come to the conclusion that I can be incredibly shallow when it comes to looks, which is something I’ve learned not to in the past year. And frankly, not being like that anymore is for the better. I’ve learned to appreciate everyone and their unique quirks and foibles, and I love it.

But let’s rewind.

What attracted me in celebrity men was not only the escapism factor (you know, dreaming about skiving off on a pirate boat with Orlando Bloom and such). The bodies played a part. I don’t know where my lust for a good, musclebound topless bloke came from. I blame the hormones that kept surging throughout my teens. Vin Diesel was a good example of this. In hindsight, he’s not at all a good actor, but fuck me does he ever have a body to die for.

It was my first proper confrontation with the opposite sex. Boys weren’t falling at my feet, and I felt ugly. I guess that’s the main thing with these celebs. They don’t know you, so they can’t reject you or hurt your feelings. Or at least that’s what I discovered. Might be different for other people.

But when the realization that you’ll never marry them, date them or possibly even get in the same space as them hits, you also realize that your childhood is over. Again, that’s how it was like for me. You get thrown into a world where people who notice you and are interested in you exsist, and at first sight, that’s fucking scary. (Again, it was for me. Your mileage may vary.

I never really had a female celeb crush, by the way. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because deep down, I like the women in my life more than the women on the silver screen.

Attraction is a weird beast of a thing. I hope I never really get to the bottom of it for fear I might go insane knowing the answer.  

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